


prompt: head in your lap

by kocuria



Series: Industrial Grade Softness Stucky [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: BAMF Bucky Barnes, Blankets, Bucky Barnes & Shuri Friendship, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Avengers, Domestic Fluff, Drowning, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Industrial grade softness, M/M, POV Outsider, Pillow & Blanket Forts, Platonic Cuddling, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Pre-Relationship, Protective Bucky Barnes, Soft Bucky, Team as Family, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Wakanda (Marvel), blankets are extremely important, pre-stucky, well actually maybe ch2 hurts a little but it gets better I promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2020-08-29 20:34:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20246146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kocuria/pseuds/kocuria
Summary: Supersoldiers, she discovered, were like big wild cats - prone to lounging in warm places, deceptively tranquil until something spooked them.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> No dice this time, just a prompt that caught my eye from [Fluff Bingo](http://fluffbingo.tumblr.com/prompt-list) \- 100: Head resting on lap.  
There's gonna be three interconnected(ish) drabbles based on this prompt, each its own chapter.  
  
Find me on [Tumblr](https://kocuria.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/kocuria)  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the 'everything is beautiful and nothing hurts' part of the story. Chapter 2 is a bit more whumpy, then chapter 3 is rainbows and fluff again.

Shuri felt a bit like a biologist observing wild animals. Ever since T'Challa extended an invitation to the Avengers and their extended family of superheroes to build a secondary base of operations in Wakanda, at least one of them was always somewhere around, doing... stuff. Every one of them had different quirks and learning them became her favorite pastime when her brain needed a break from reinventing the way science worked. Sometimes she could practically hear David Attenborough voice-over in her head: _the superhero is a subspecies of human, its most recognisable features being overinflated ego and so-called "savior complex"; usually inhabits densely populated urban areas..._

Clint and Peter were always perched in the highest place in the room (and all too often bickering about who got there first), to the point where she discreetly redesigned the new lounge they built to include a mezzanine that ran all the way around the room. Dr Strange (and no matter how many times he asked, she just couldn't get used to calling him Stephen) popped in and out at random, usually to pick Wanda's brain about something. The witch was always baking, and probably imbuing her pastries with some of her magical powers judging by the ecstatic, almost indecent moans often heard from the kitchen. Thor could usually be found listening to music, gushing about some new song that _Lady Darcy_ (who apparently managed to kick his ass at some point, and that made Shuri want to meet the girl _so bad_) had sent him. Nebula kept de-installing and upgrading parts of her body and that was as impressive as it was disturbing - she never took Shuri up on her offer of help though; Groot was best avoided at all costs, since Rocket was about the only one who could stand his attitude - the things he could make his body do made Shuri's hands itch so badly for a scanner, but she knew better than to even ask. Rhodey and Sam usually took up residence in the games room with its billiard and foosball tables. Bruce, Scott and Hope were in her lab more often than not; and Carol, Quill and Gamora were usually sat somewhere cracking jokes that made absolutely no sense to anyone who didn't spend most of their time in outer space.

It was a strange family, but it _worked_, and she was fiercely grateful for Nakia's efforts to open Wakanda up to the world.

Today the room was quiet; only Bucky, who lived here full time, was sitting in a blanket nest he made for himself next to the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. Supersoldiers, she discovered, were like big wild cats - prone to lounging in warm places, deceptively tranquil until something spooked them. There was a closet full of pillows and blankets that were theoretically for everyone's use, but one of the first things they all learned after moving in was that you needed to know which ones were Bucky's favorites and Not. Touch. Them. He shared, sometimes, but the stink eye he gave anybody who mistakenly took one of the blankets he considered _his_ was truly formidable.

Bucky was just sitting there, cocooned like a burrito, face turned up to the sun, soaking up the warmth. She knew better than to think he was sleeping, though; there was an earbud sneaking out of his ear, no doubt playing one of his science podcasts. He smiled a little bit when he heard her enter the room, but otherwise didn't move or even open his eyes. The fact that he trusted her enough to just sit with his back to her, vulnerable like that, still floored her - after what he's been through, his skittishness was more than understandable. There were only two people he accepted up in his personal space like that, and she was so humbled to be one of them.

The other one was ambling into the room right now, obviously having just come back from the official meet-and-greet with UN representatives that she's heard T'Challa bitch about yesterday - something about superhero oversight, the Accords being renegotiated after Avengers have saved everyone's asses yet again. As good a news as it was, it meant that Steve, as the unquestioned leader of the American based heroes, was stuck in meetings more often than not - more often even than T'Challa, who had the responsibilities of a monarch to excuse him from the painstaking appointments with various lawyers.

Steve was wearing elegant slacks and shirt and had what was practically a ream of paper in his hand, no doubt full of legalese that he'd spend the next few hours trying to decipher to prepare for tomorrow's follow-up meeting. He smiled tiredly at Shuri and beelined straight to Bucky's nest, toeing off his shoes and flopping down unceremoniously next to him. Bucky finally cracked one eye open, beamed at Steve, looked over his shoulder at the paperwork, decided not to bother and closed his eyes again.

They should have made a comical pair - Bucky in his soft workout pants and a hoodie, Steve looking like a businessman on his lunch break - but their body language made them fit seamlessly. Bucky's rearranged himself minutely to rest part of his body weight on Steve's side, effectively plastering himself to him; Steve was sitting cross-legged, a highlighter in hand, one of his knees resting on Bucky's thigh.

She smiled. They kept ending up like this every time they were in the room together, Steve obviously needing to reassure himself that _yes_, Bucky was indeed _back. _She couldn't say she blamed him - watching Bucky disappear time and time again over the span of the last century must have been hard, but seeing him turn to dust with Steve's name on his lips? She's heard from Bruce how Steve'd practically shut down right then and there on the battlefield, just falling down and refusing to budge. It was hard to imagine, the Man with a Plan, on his knees.

She could see it, though, in the way he clung to Bucky all the time now. Bucky didn't seem to mind, in fact, he just took it in stride and gave as much of himself as Steve needed whenever Steve was visiting. She kind of expected Steve to move to Wakanda full-time soon, too, what with Bucky living here.

She was snapped out of her thoughts by a wordless grumble and then the sound of Steve shuffling down until his head was in Bucky's lap, the documents held in the air in front of his face, the highlighter cap stuck in his mouth as he furiously marked some paragraph. They looked comfortable, the pose probably practiced over years of living together in close quarters. Somehow, a metal hand ended up on Steve's shoulder, petting lightly as if to settle a fussing child, but Bucky's face was still turned toward the sun, eyes closed and a slight smile in the corners of his mouth.

They were the very definition of an apex predator, genetically engineered to be perfect killing machines. Sunning themselves in a puddle of splayed limbs in a blanket nest on the floor.

Yeah. Cats. Sounds about right.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hot steam made it almost impossible to see, but he did notice them sitting on the floor of the shower, still in their uniforms - well, it's not like they could get any wetter - Steve curled up in Bucky's lap like he was still 5 feet and 90 pounds instead of one of the biggest fighters on the team.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit whumpy, the better to show the _comfort_ part of their relationship.  
The third chapter of this will be all rainbows and fluffy bunnies, I promise!

The quinjet was dark, the room almost oppresively small.

Sam was sitting on the floor, cleaning his jetpack methodically. He'd already changed out of his armor and dressed in comfortable sweats and a hoodie, the warmth in stark contrast to the horrid weather raging outside.

When Shuri got a call from Wakandan research vessel in the Antarctic, there were three of them available - Bucky, obviously, since he lived in the palace; Steve, who was in Wakanda more often than not; and Sam, who came to visit Steve and see if Shuri could update his wings with her vibranium tech. T'Challa tagged along, on Shuri's insistence. The call seemed straightforward - bad weather, damaged ship, need extraction - so sending four 'superheroes' to deal with it was probably an overkill, but Shuri's close friend was onboard and she was going out of her mind with worry. Bucky took one look at her and decided that they'd go, help speed process along.

Thank god he did. Even before they got there, they started getting more and more frantic messages from the ship - then radio silence. When they arrived, the ship was going down quickly and it looked like something was trying to actively dismantle it from below.

Well, the scientists _were_ studying some weird readings from under the ice, and there was talk about maybe discovering some new species of deep water predator, but now there were fucking _tentacles_ ripping the ship apart.

Yeah, good thing there were four of them, since it took everything they had to get the scientists out of the structurally compromised levels below deck. There was of course a mandatory scuffle with one of the scientists not wanting to leave their research behind, but T'Challa pulled rank and the woman quickly gave up.

That was when Steve went overboard, smashed right in the chest by one of the tentacles while he was escorting two young men to the quinjet sitting on the top deck. Sam had a front row seat to that - and wasn't that great, seeing your best friend fall straight into danger like that _again..._ No, he wasn't going to think about that now, focus on the cold, the icy rain on your face, this is not the desert, this is not Riley, come on, go _faster_, you can catch him, _come on_.

He didn't catch him.

Steve went under among the thrashing tentacles and disappeared completely under foaming, freezing water and Sam had a moment of panic, of _even a supersoldier can't survive that -_ and then he saw Bucky dive straight in after Steve.

It never stopped shocking him, how insanely graceful the man was - vaulting down from the bridge where he was trying to get the officers to the quinjet, falling to the deck in a tight roll, uncoiling and using the momentum to run the length of the ship, get on the railing, and _jump_. For a moment he was almost frozen in midair, his body one long elegant line, slipping right between the lethal _things_ that were still furiously hitting everything within reach, and then he was gone underwater too.

Fuck. They were gonna lose both of them. Fuck. _Fuck._

Sam kept circling overhead, frantically trying to see _anything_, but both men were wearing dark armor, Bucky's _arm_ was black, for fuck's sake, he couldn't_ see _them.

And then. _There_. Flash of white and yellow; deathly pale skin and wet blond hair, a white star on the chest, going underwater again, _nononoNO_ don't you dare, I've got you, I see you, and he _had_ them. Bucky, the self-sacrificing idiot, forced him to take Steve to safety first while he swam quickly to the nearest ice float to get out of reach of the bloodthirsty monster that did their best to smash absolutely everything around them to bloody pieces.

They were on the quinjet now and Sam was trying to come down from the adrenaline high, focusing on what he could feel at this moment. The tea was hot in his stomach, the hoodie warm and soft; the practiced motions of gear maintenance were almost a ritual, calming his mind right down. They've made it, they were safe, they were going home.

It was hard to focus on good things though, when Steve's frightened face kept flashing before his eyes.

Bucky dragged Steve into the shower immediately - and thank god there even was one onboard. Sam'd always thought it was excessive, but now he was immensely grateful for it.

They were in there long enough that Sam actually knocked, and, getting no answer, peeked in.

Hot steam made it almost impossible to see, but he did notice them sitting on the floor of the shower, still in their uniforms - well, it's not like they could get any wetter - Steve curled up in Bucky's lap like he was still 5 feet and 90 pounds instead of one of the biggest fighters on the team. Bucky caught Sam's eye and nodded him inside. Together they got Steve out of the stall - and how the hell did the two of them even _fit_ in there? - and manhandled him out of the uniform and into soft sweats they kept in the quinjet for after particularly messy missions. Bucky left Steve in Sam's arms for approximately one minute, getting out of his uniform and into fresh clothes quicker than should be humanly possible, then took Steve's weight back.

Steve was completely unresponsive. Sure, his eyes were open, he was breathing normally, his pulse was regular, his temperature back to his super-soldier normal - and of course Sam had to check that, to reassure himself as much as out of ingrained paramedic habit - but his skin was still greyish, he was constantly wrecked by full-body shivers, staring blankly into the distance. He didn't react to Sam's questions, except to roll his head onto Sam's shoulder, but when Bucky came to get him, he tangled himself around the man like an octopus.

Wait, no, anything with tentacles was off-limits for now. Like a koala. Koalas were warm and fuzzy, and anyway Steve seemed to imitate one quite well, with the way Bucky actually lifted and carried him to the corner nearest the engines where it was always just this little bit warmer. Sam tried to direct him to the benches lining the walls, but Bucky seemed to instinctively know what Steve's next move would be - which was to curl himself around Bucky's body like a comma as soon as they were on the floor, head and chest in Bucky's lap, legs folded behind Bucky's back, a fetal position with Barnes' body in the middle of it. Bucky just sat cross-legged, then gestured for Sam to bring him the blankets that they kept in the storage nook along with the sweats and towels. Sam took the warmest, biggest blanket he could find - T'Challa seemed to have saved some for them, most of the covers being claimed already by the scientists huddling together in the cargo hold - and brought it back to the supersoldiers. Bucky quickly made a nest - he was quite adept at making those, all those hours spent in front of the window watching the city bustle outside, cocooned like a particularly grumpy larva - with only his torso and Steve's face sticking out. Steve somehow got his nose tucked into the crook of Bucky's flesh arm, and the metal one was slowly stroking the damp blond hair. It looked like a practiced, comfortable position - from what Sam knew about their time before the war, Bucky'd actually used his body heat occasionally to keep Steve warm in winters when the smaller man was wrecked by fevers. They seemed to be settled in for the next few hours; Bucky's body leaning a bit on the wall behind them, Steve's frame no longer trembling so badly. Steve's eyes were closed and he almost looked like he could be dozing off.

What surprised him though was Barnes softly humming. The sound was very low - Sam only caught it when he got close enough to help Bucky tuck the blanket more securely around Steve's legs - and it was impossible to recognise the melody, but there was an ease of familiarity behind it, like it was something he'd done countless times before.

He didn't know Barnes was musical. They certainly never heard him singing or playing anything before... but suddenly he did recall Steve mentioning Bucky being a great dancer. Well, that explained _that_.

Bucky didn't like talking about their past. He was all about the future - catching up on science with Shuri, planning Wakanda's social outreach programme with Nakia, discussing Avengers' training regimen with Steve. This was the first time that Sam could recall that he saw Bucky do something that was so obviously connected to his Brooklyn past.

T'Challa came from the hold where the scientists were crowded together, still in his Black Panther suit - the man really needed to start taking better care of himself, no way was it warm enough after the cold, wet, miserable mission - and looked at Steve and Bucky with worry in his eyes. "What's wrong with the Captain?" he asked softly.

Sam eyed the supersoldiers cuddled on the floor in a tight ball, then thought about it carefully. He thought he knew what was going on, even though Bucky didn't really answer any of Sam's frantic questions when they were trying to get Steve to snap out of his shock. He weighed his words carefully, not wanting to betray too much, but it wasn't like the story of how Steve died wasn't common knowledge.

He took T'Challa's arm and steered him towards the cockpit, trying not to disturb Steve's doze. "Tell me, Your Highness, have you ever drowned?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm feeling super guilty about whumping Steve, but I couldn't get this idea of Bucky comforting him after near-drowning out of my head.  
I was thinking about the Lemurian Star mission when writing this, and headcanon that, 1) the water here is much, much colder, and choppy because of all the thrashing, 2) Steve doesn't expect to be submerged into it so he goes into shock, and 3) Bucky creates a safe space for him to freak out after, unlike the STRIKE team that surrounded him on that mission.  
Also this chapter is my homage to the fact that _everything_ can be made better if you add tentacles ;)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thing is, Steve and Bucky are orbiting each other like a binary star system, constantly either looking at each other or touching - but rarely doing both at the same time. It's taken Shuri weeks to notice this rule, but now that she did, it's like they're _everywhere_ doing this weird _thing_ and she can't unsee it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This thing has been staring at me judgmentally since September and I decided I need to stop obsessing over every single sentence and just get it out there.

Thing is, Steve and Bucky are orbiting each other like a binary star system, constantly either looking at each other or touching - but rarely doing both at the same time. It's taken Shuri weeks to notice this rule, but now that she did, it's like they're _ everywhere _ doing this weird _ thing _and she can't unsee it.

Bucky makes faces at Steve during an official meeting and almost makes him break his _ I'm Captain America and this is Serious Business _ persona. The moment the meeting's done, Steve gets a predatory look on his face and stalks off the podium. Bucky squawks and runs out of the room, but getting a few second head-start is not enough to save him from being thrown over Steve's shoulder like a sack of potatoes and unceremoniously carried in the direction of the lake. They're both cackling like madmen when they come back to the palace an hour later, completely soaked.

(Steve's suit turns out to be unsalvageable. When Sam points it out, Bucky somehow manages to look both sheepish and unbearably smug at the same time.)

Steve tags along to Bucky's arm appointment and patiently sits there through the whole battery of tests and scans, watching them like a hawk; his face is unreadable, but his crossed arms twitch occasionally like he wants to reach out and grab. The moment Shuri clears him, Steve comes closer, sits on the exam table next to Bucky, and his hand lands on Bucky's, fingers interlocking, while they listen to her explaining potential upgrades and outlining the physiotherapy.

Bucky casually throws his legs over Steve's lap during movie night and Steve's hand immediately goes to his ankle and starts playing with the soft fabric of his fuzzy yellow socks, but both of them keep their eyes on the screen, smiling slightly. Somehow, before the movie's done, they're covered with an enormous blanket and fast asleep, Steve's head pillowed on Bucky's chest with Bucky's hand tangled in his hair.

Steve's sitting at a desk working on some Avengers' press release when Bucky comes up and reaches around him to put a fresh mug of coffee on the table. Without looking away from the documents, Steve casually snuggles into his arm - just grabbing it, putting it around his shoulders, squeezing briefly and letting go. Bucky smiles, buries his face in Steve's hair for a moment, and goes back to helping Wanda in the kitchen, blushing a little when she winks at him.

Bucky hands Steve a Sharpie when they're lazing around with Sam, T'Challa and Shuri, and without a word Steve just starts doodling some abstract designs on his right arm. Bucky adjusts his position this way and that depending on the part Steve's working on. When Steve's done, Bucky takes back the Sharpie and puts it back in his pocket like it's the most natural thing in the world. Neither of them misses even a beat of the conversation.

(Shuri immediately starts designing a marker that will work on vibranium. It seems like such a waste to limit Steve's canvas like that.)

"It's like the Schroedinger's cat with them," Sam says to Shuri later, when the supersoldiers have orbited away somewhere. "It's so much more fun if we don't open the box and check what's inside. Will they? Won't they?" - she scoffs at him - "Yeah, I know, of course they will. But have they already?"

Shuri doesn't really know the answer to that, not until a few days later they're all at the lake and she nudges Sam, saying, "Remember what I said about _ either _ looking _ or _ touching?" She indicates the scene next to them with a nod.

Steve's lying with his head in Bucky's lap, still damp from the swimming competition he's had earlier with T'Challa. Bucky's been reading something on his e-reader for most of the afternoon, but now the device sits on the grass next to him, abandoned in favor of playing with Steve's hair. Bucky's looking down in fond exasperation, his lap completely soaked through at this point, his metal hand going to lightly trace Steve's eyebrows, his nose, then combing gently through his beard. Not breaking eye contact, Steve covers the hand with his own and nuzzles into it. It's like they're in a bubble - Shuri's quite certain they don't hear anything going on around them, focused on each other as they are.

They don't talk. They don't kiss. They just sit there, staring, radiant, and Shuri's never felt more like a voyeur than she does right now.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! 🙃  
  
  



End file.
